


Postcard from Paris

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Depression, Disability, Dumbledore Armada’s discord fest, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Healer Hermione Granger, Marriage, Paris - Freeform, Severus Snape Lives, moody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: Pansy had her life laid out for her for as long as she could remember. That was until life gave her a kick in the teeth. Being happy isn’t linear or straight through.Love and life can be shades of grey even in places like Paris.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Severus Snape
Comments: 16
Kudos: 21
Collections: Somewhere in the World Fest





	Postcard from Paris

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [pandora_rose_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandora_rose_xo/pseuds/pandora_rose_xo) in the [Somewhere_in_the_World](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Somewhere_in_the_World) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Paris

There were many things in life Pansy had wanted growing up. Dreams of children, a family and a manor home flashed through her mind. Even witches loved fairy tales. This wasn’t the life of her dreams, but she loved Severus and the life they had together. 

Even if the man was sometimes the biggest git on the continent, but, it takes one to know one, doesn’t it? She let out a soft laugh at the thought. 

Pansy pulled out a pack of cigarettes, sticking it between her lips. Lighting it, she breathed in the smoke and nicotine deeply. It  _ calmed _ her, grounding her ever so slightly. They took an edge off her pain. Nothing ever got rid of it thoroughly, it was in the back of her mind like a gossamer curtain clinging to her, but sometimes it would turn into a wool blanket and would drown her.

Her knees slightly throbbed. Her ankles were unsteady. Her hips were moving with each step ever so slightly more than they should. Pansy’s left shoulder had slipped out of the socket this morning. All she had done was reach for a fucking glass of water on her bedside table. It fell out of place, ripping a raw scream from her throat. Sending Severus running to her like the Dark Lord himself was chasing him. 

The man knew how to deal with this better than  _ anyone _ ; he simply popped it back in place. Then rubbing her side like she was a skittish racehorse who needed to be calmed. 

Ehlers Danlos Syndrome was like a demon sent from the deepest darkest fiery pits of hell, but no matter how many heads you cut off, two more would grow back in an instant—sinking its teeth in back to take another bite of your life. Long ago Pansy dreamed of being someone, but now she just wanted to make it through each day. 

Paris was beautiful in a way that England could never be, but it was also just as bloody cold. It sunk into her through her heavy wool peacoat straight to her far too loose joints. Pansy walked on the beautiful street, with its cobblestones, though she couldn’t be bothered to take in the sights. The cold her distraction, though it kept her mind sharp. 

She should have worn the heavy wool trousers that she normally did, but she wanted to feel pretty today. So, Pansy had tugged on this morning her favourite sweater dress and tights. Her knees and ankles ever so slightly slipping out of place as she did so. 

But, it was worth it. To her, it was worth it to see her husband smile to know that he still found her beautiful, witty and that he too enjoyed the eyes of other men on her. Severus Snape was a lot of things, but no one would ever deny that wasn’t a Slytherin. The man was prideful, snarky, and an utter bastard at best. But, the two of them fit together like nothing else. They were like two broken shards of glass that settled together just right. 

The war haunted her husband in ways she never would understand, but Pansy was there to listen and support him whenever he needed it. Severus did the same for her and much more. 

They understood one another, and maybe that’s how a one nightstand had turned into many. Then the marriage that followed. Pansy loved him dearly. Achingly, this twisty feeling her gut that made her feel alive like nothing else ever had. Pansy wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even to be without pain. It was a constant for as long as she could remember, love, however, was not. Her parents weren’t bad people, but they were Slytherins, there had always been a distance there. More so now, with her choices. 

Pansy reached into her pocket for her applewood wand. Pulling it out, she cast a silent  _ tempus _ . It was nearly seven.  _ Bloody hell _ , she was running late. Long ago she would have just run. High heeled boots be damned. Her long limbs carrying her each step, her ground eating gait, it was what, not even a kilometre? But for Pansy now it was like asking her to run to the moon and back. 

It was impossible, and the very thought of that sat like a rock in her stomach. Far more than the food she had tried to eat earlier, which Pansy would bet anything she was going to spend the night retching up. Pansy only hoped she would get to do that at home and not out on the street where everyone would be staring at her. Pansy long ago thought being stared at was fun. People wanted to be her, but now they only felt pity, and she hated their pity. Pity was for those who were weak, and she was anything but weak. 

Pansy didn’t want this; she didn’t want to be this thin. She didn’t want to be this sick. Her life was like a postcard from Paris when Pansy had seen the real thing. Step by step, she slowly and  _ safely _ walked to the restaurant where she was meeting Severus and Granger. The bitch was what came to mind. No, Pansy shouldn’t think of her like that. 

_ Hermione,  _ it seemed _ , _ healer and friend to the saviour of the wizarding world might have something that could help her. This treatment might be able to give Pansy her life back, and she would take help from anyone, even the Dark Lord himself. 

And Hermione Jean Granger was far less evil than that monster. The woman was just a bloody insufferable little know-it-all if there had ever been one. 

********************* 

Pansy walked into the dark restaurant, her heels clicking across the floor as she did so. A young blue-eyed hostess tried to wave her over; he seemed just a little too happy to see her. 

“I am meeting someone,” Pansy said, failing to be pleasant. Her back was throbbing as she stood there. 

The man nodded, far too busy with the people who actually wanted his attention. 

The restaurant was Muggle, but they attracted far less attention in such places than they did in magical establishments. It was a small price to pay not being able to use magic for peace. The French, like their English counterparts, loved to gossip. 

Pansy found them, Severus and Granger. The woman’s wild curls were sticking out above the crowd, though her husband also stuck out like a sore thumb. The sight of him sitting his back to two walls brought a smile to her face. As always, he was dressed in all black. His inky hair just past his shoulders. 

Ambling across the room, her nose turned up to the air. Pansy steeled herself, putting her mask back in place. The Muggles didn’t need to see her break down and neither did Granger. Severus stood and pulled out her chair for her, helping her scoot her chair back under the table after she sat down. 

He took his seat, sighing as he did so. His face ever so slightly pinched. Crowds were never Severus’ thing, and the war had only made it worse.

“How have you been, Pansy?” Hermione asked, reaching for her glass of water. 

“Do you want the truth or what you want to hear?” She snipped, her tone sharp and rather cold. Her eyes narrowed, as she stared at the other woman.

Pansy remembered the years of cruel comments from the “golden trio” as some people called them. Pug face, Draco’s “fake” girlfriend, and worse in her eighth year from the woman before  _ the traitor _ . She knew the comments people now made about her and less Severus. About their ages, how creepy it was, and how Pansy was simply clinging to him for protection.

How could they love each other? Not bothering to think of the reasons, doing so would give them validity, which she had never been one for such things. 

Severus was sitting in front of Pansy, his long-fingered hands clasped in front of him. His black eyes, begging her to be kinder. He looked at her as if she was kicking his bloody dog. Pansy was fine with suffering; it was her normal; it had become just as much part of her existence as breathing. But, making him suffer was a  _ very  _ different story. Severus stuck his neck out for her, convincing Granger to help her, and now the quaffle was in her hands. It was just Pansy’s choice about what she was going to do about it. 

Hermione smiled at her, crossing her arms over her chest. But, there was no hatred in the woman’s warm brown eyes. If anything, it was empathy, which made Pansy want to growl. 

She didn’t want anyone’s pity not even if they wanted to help her. 

_ Severus _ , Pansy thought,  _ keep your bloody mouth shut for him. You can survive anything; all you have to do is keep breathing. Just keep breathing. _

“Of course I want the truth, Pansy,” Granger muttered, smoothing the table cloth under her fingers. “Can’t help you otherwise, but then again people who are chronically ill spend their lives saying everything is bloody fine. People don’t want to hear what’s actually going on, but I do.”

“I feel like utter crap,” she deadpanned, biting her cheek and then adding, “and this is a good day.”

“Good,” Hermione said. “I can work with that, honesty that is. We need to manage your pain, and stabilise your joints. I can’t help with everything else, but I can put you in contact with people who can. Did Severus tell you I studied Muggle medicine as well?”

Pansy nodded, not saying a word. Hope, it was something that she hadn’t felt in a while. It felt weird like the ability to wonder about the future, one that she had given up on having. No, she wasn’t going to think about it. Neither of them put much consideration into the thing that seemed to shove it’s way to the forefront of her mind. 

Children.

Biological or adoption it didn’t matter either way. They wanted to have them. They had even talked about it, now what seemed like a lifetime ago. But, if they could get her health stable? It wouldn’t be something that could only happen in the Mirror of Erised. It could be reality, and that filled every single fibre of Pansy with joy, but she was putting the cart before the thestral. 

“So, where do we start?” Pansy asked, trying to be brave, something she always struggled with. 

Severus smiled at her, the man rarely ever did. The expression looked rather odd on his pale face, but Pansy loved it. Making her feel comfortable in a way she couldn’t begin to put into words. 

“See me tomorrow at the clinic I have started working at,” Hermione said, reaching out to pat Pansy’s hand. It was warm and slightly comforting even. “The one that offered to make me director of their rehab program. Which I am sure Severus had something to do with.”

The man simply shrugged his shoulders, silent and face blank. His shields were back up, but she knew better. 

Pansy smiled, reaching to take her husband’s hand over the table. She was lucky to have him. There were far more important things than what other people thought. 

“I want you to promise me one thing though,” Granger added. “Promise me that you understand the goal isn’t about going back to the way things were, but trying to make your reality better. I can’t give you that. I use magic, but it’s not a Disney movie.”

“I understand that,” Pansy said. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

This life wasn’t a postcard from Paris. It was her beautiful and wonderful reality. Looking at Severus, she realised while Pansy might want it to be better she wouldn’t give any of this up for anything. Not a bloody thing. 


End file.
